"So big!" goes the little one, taught
with glee this estimation we speak
for her whose arms are new
to gesture, whose words are not yet,
or barely've been, formed by mouth,
tongue & teeth, breath & throat
that render and embody voice.
And it is big, for her---
bigger than her---but our secret
laugh: it's not so big. It's
regular big. One-person big.
One not at all big person big.
It's big, for her, bigger than her, but
not---someone tell her, some day---so very very too very big.